


The Lonely Heart of a Queen

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Lonely Heart of a Queen [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: A DOQ Historical AU, in which Regina is a regent queen who is unable to marry again and finds comfort, happiness and love in the arms of her secret lovers.





	The Lonely Heart of a Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glindalovesshoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glindalovesshoes/gifts).



Regina smiles back at Mal as she pulls on her robe—a thick, velvety purple robe with billowing fabric that easily hides the fact that she’s naked underneath it. She watches as Mal sits up, laughing softly as her brow arches and the blanket falls away from her body and pools at her waist.

She’s beautiful like this, she finds herself thinking—but then, she always is.

The candles around the room are dim, but give off enough of a glow to make her pale skin look warm and sunkissed. Her blue eyes glitter and shine, and her cheeks are still a little flushed from the night they spent together. Her full lips are swollen and her hair is a mess—and she’s looking at her in a way that makes it difficult to want to leave.

“Stay.”

“Mal…”

“Just for a little longer.”

“You know I can’t,” Regina sighs as she knots her robe, grinning softly as Mal pouts. “I would if I could, but the sun will be up soon and I’m meeting with the Council in the morning.” She grins. “I barely tolerate them as it is, I wouldn’t be able to manage it without any sleep.”

“Then sleep here,” Mal says, reaching for her.

Regina laughs. “We wouldn’t sleep. You know that.”

She sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching out and combing her fingers through Mal’s hair before tucking it behind her ear—and she wishes she could stay, but already this is a stolen moment they shouldn’t have had.

She’d been upset though—and so lonely.

Henry had gone to sleep hours before and David broke the news that Leopold’s army was mobilizing. Since her husband had died there’d been constant threats from neighboring kingdoms—and Leopold was the most relentless of them all. At one point, years and years before, he’d offered to marry her—to marry a woman he’d only seen, and never actually spoken to. She’d been insulted by the offer—it was an obvious play for power—and when she refused him, it was his turn to be insulted.

Then, came the first attempt at an invasion.

The Council saw her as the problem, not the neighboring kings.

If she weren’t her young son’s regent, none of this would be happening. If she weren’t the Regent Queen there would be stability and boys from the village wouldn’t wait with bated breath to learn if they’d have to mobilize to protect their Queen, they wouldn’t wait to find out if they’d be sent to die in her honor.

And each and every time she met with the Council to discuss how to handle the newest threat, they always lamented their vote to choose her as her son’s regent—if only they could do it again, and choose David.

Fortunately for her, David had no interest in becoming king. That’s why they’d chosen her in the first place.

The night before David—a Senior Councilman—came to her and informed her of their Council’s displeasure and desire for a meeting. He’d been kind about it, as he always was, and he’d reminded her that he’d always be in her corner—and that had been a comfort. But then he left and she was alone with her thoughts. Hot tears burned in her eyes and her jaw tensed—and all she wanted to do was rage.

She never wanted this—she never wanted any of this.

But the laws were the laws, and her son’s regent had to be either her or David as they were her son’s only two blood relatives—and taking on the role of queen in a kingdom she never wanted to rule had come at great personal cost.

And so she’d gone to Mal.

For years, they’d been carrying on a love affair. It was fun and exciting, and it was comfortable. She knew that she could rely on her—that no matter what, Mal would be there for her. She’d provide her comfort and distraction, an ear when she needed to vent and a shoulder when she needed to cry.

Mal is tough to pin-down though. Time and time again she’d tried to get her to move closer, to bring her to the palace and give her some sort of ridiculous made-up title that would allow her to have her whenever she wanted, that would allow them to share a bed and a life. But time and time again, Mal refused. So they carried on as they always did—and it was probably safer this way, keeping their relationship at an arm’s length so that no one would suspect it.

She knew that Mal had other lovers—she knew about them, but she never saw them. Normally, she was the jealous sort—and when she was married, she’d never have tolerated Daniel taking another lover. But somehow, it didn’t bother her with Mal—probably, at least in part, because they could never truly be together, and also, in part, because Mal was such a free spirit. She didn’t follow the conventional rules, she didn’t conform or do what was expected. She did what felt right in the moment—and never once had she not been there when Regina needed her.

“You’re right,” she admits, her eyes shining as she leans in and presses a soft and fleeting kiss to her lips, as she throws the blanket away from herself and gets out of bed. “I have something that I want to give you before you go, though.”

Regina watches as she pads across the room—and a grin pulls onto her lips as she admires her, letting her eyes trail down her bare back and legs. And again, for a moment, all she can think of is how beautiful she is and how much she hates to have to leave her.

“It’s for your meeting tomorrow,” Mal says, leaning onto the tips of her toes and reaching for a box on a highs shelf. Regina watches curiously as she pulls it down, setting it on a table at her side as she fishes through the contents—and she watches as she draws a necklace from it.

“What is that?”

“To keep you calm,” Mal says, as a smile curls onto her lips. “To keep you from tearing someone’s heart out.”

Regina scoffs. “That’s only a threat I make.”

“But I’m sure they believe you could,” Mal laughs. “You’re quite a force to be reckoned with when you’re angry.”

Regina just shrugs. She’s always had a temper and she’s always struggled to control it—but really, she’s harmless… mostly.

She watches as Mal crawls back into bed, tucking her legs beneath herself as she holds up a leather cord that holds a little vial filled with purple liquid—and a grin pulls onto her lips as Mal’s eyes meet hers, her expression is solemn.

“I mean it, Regina. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“When have I ever—” Mal’s brow arches and she sighs, her eyes pressing shut as she thinks about the hundreds of times she’s lost her temper and stormed off, slamming doors hard enough to make the walls shake. “So, what is that, exactly?” She laughs softly. “If I get mad, can I throw it to the floor and disappear in a cloud of purple smoke?”

“No.”

“Oh…”

“Like I said, it’s a blend to keep you clam.” Reaching out, she ties the cord around her neck and grins at the little vial. “Put a few drops on,” she says as her fingers touch the skin just below her earlobe. “Here,” she says as her fingers move to the other side. “And here…” Her finger drags down her neck and over her clavicle to the space between her breasts. “And here.”

“That’ll keep me calm?” Mal nods, and though Regina isn’t sure she believes in whatever it is that Mal practices—some call it medicine and other call it witchcraft—she does believe in Mal, and how could she not, when Mal was the reason her son had lived? Blinking, she reaches for the vial around her neck and rolls it between her fingers. “What’s in it?”

“Lavender and kava root.”

“Kava root?”

Mal nods. “And a few other things.”

Regina looks down at the vial around her neck and carefully pulls the cork from it. She holds the little vile between her fingers and breathes it in—she can smell the lavender and the earthy scent of something Mal’s given her before to calm her nerves. She smiles as she pushes the cork back into the top of the vile, and leaning in, she presses a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.”

Mal turns and catches her lips, kissing her softly and sweetly. Her hand cradles her cheek—and it’s so tempting not to lean in and push her back down onto the bed, and have her way with her just one more time before the sun comes up. But she knows if she allowed herself that, the morning would be absolute hell.

“When can I see you again?” Mal asks, as she pulls back. “Soon, I hope.”

“Soon,” Regina agrees. “I’ll write.”

“I’d like to see Henry again.”

“I’m sure he’d like that, too,” she says, as a grin pulls onto her lips. “He loved when you taught him how to skip rocks on the river.”

“I loved that, too.”

Regina bites down on her lip. “So, does this mean you’re… interested in coming to stay for little while?’

Mal nods. “For a few days.”

“A week.”

Laughing, Mal nods again. “Alright, a week.”

“Good,” Regina says, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “I should go.”

“You’ll let me know how things go with the Council?”

“And if your little solution here works,” she says, folding her hand over the vile. “Or if I need to go into exile.”

Leaning in, Mal reaches for her, pushing both hands up over her jaw. As she draws her in this time her kiss is a little bit more urgent, it’s harder and more passionate, and she knows it’s to make up for all the days they’ll be apart.

Finally, Regina pushes back, resting her forehead against Mal’s as she breathes her in, pecking her lips one last time before she rises up from the bed. It occurs to her to tell her that she loves her, but she doesn't—she doesn’t know how it’d be received and she’s not sure she could handle not hearing it back. So, instead she smiles and offers her a little wave as she draws up her hood, watching as Mal lays back against the pillows, waving back as she disappears into the night.

And as she rides away on Rocinante, she reaches for the little vial around her neck—she is calmer, but it has nothing to do with the oils around her neck, and everything to do with the woman who gave them to her.

_____

She’d been so angry the first time she met him—and she’d been looking for a fight, and she’d wanted to do something reckless.

After all, that’s what everyone expected of her.

After the dreaded Council meeting, she’d gone for a ride, wanting to clear her head and get as far away from the castle as she could. Of course, she couldn’t actually run away, no matter how much she wanted to. She couldn’t let them win and she wouldn’t sacrifice Henry’s birthright over her own hurt feelings—and she hoped when she returned to the castle, it’d be with a level head.

Long ago, she’d stopped expecting the Council to give her the benefit of the doubt. To them, she was young and inexperienced, and worst of all, a woman who could—and perhaps, depending on the situation, should—be easily persuaded. She was unpredictable and her reign bucked at tradition. They didn’t see or care to see the good she’d done—they only saw the challenges her reign presented. Of course, she couldn’t hold them responsible for what they didn’t know—and her father-in-law had kept them at arm’s length, never letting them know the thin line he was walking for the sake of popularity. Though, even if they did know, it’d hardly matter— they’d scoff at her and deem it a pitiful excuse to smear the name a good man and a good king.

Daniel had only been king for a couple of months—and when he died, Henry was barely two. His father had taken the throne before he reached thirty—and spent another thirty years ruling. The people in his kingdom loved him, they thought him to be fair and generous, and benevolent man who’d give them anything. They didn’t see his flaws—and they didn’t see what he concealed from them. They didn’t know how little money there was or that it’d been dwindling for a quarter of a century. They didn’t know about the loans from neighboring kingdoms or that her father-in-law had a extensive list of debts he’d never be able to pay back—there was no evidence that he’d ever even attempted.

That’d be left to someone else.

It should have been Daniel; but it was her—and she was determined that it wouldn’t fall on Henry’s shoulders.

In just a little more than eight years, the tide was turning—and though making sacrifices had been difficult, slowly but surely things were getting better. But no one saw that; they only saw her, making choices that made life harder on them and they saw it the mark of an incompetent regent queen—not even a queen. They didn’t see that the debts were dwindling as a result of frugality at the castle and increased taxes in surrounding villages. They didn’t know that she’d turned down bribes and offers that would allow her and her son a very comfortable life without the stress and responsibility that came with ruling. And they certainly had no idea that soon the kingdom would be self-sufficient again—or that that was what galled Leopold. For years, he’d wanted to annex her kingdom—her son’s legacy—and having it in a vulnerable spot worked to his benefit. Slowly, he’d been chipping away at its autonomy—and he hoped in the hands of a young, regent queen who knew little to nothing about governing, it’d be a prize, easily won…

Regina had only just dismounted Rocinante when Robin’s voice called out to her, telling her not to make another move and to remove her jewels, that this was a robbery.

He didn’t see the grin that pulled onto her lips and he’d no idea that he’d given her exactly what she’d wanted—a good fight.

But then she’d turned—and she watched his smug smile fade away. It was obvious that he recognized her; she could tell by the look that registered in his eyes—something that wasn’t quite fear, but not quite dread, but whatever it was, it made her uncomfortable. And perhaps he’d sensed that because he didn’t acknowledge who she was, he let her pretend. He called her M’lady instead of Your Majesty and when he smiled, she couldn’t help but smile in return.

She’d been looking for a distraction, and she’d found one—and her thoughts quickly shifted to another way she might use him to release her aggression.

She’d spent years being careful—doing what was expected, making personal sacrifices that everyone saw as duty and obligation. She wasn’t allowed to be selfish, but she always accused of it—and just once, she wanted to feel what it’d be like to act on impulse, to act without thinking, to do something reckless, to feel carefree.

So, she’d kissed him—and to her surprise, he kissed her back. Things escalated quickly and before she could talk herself out of what was happening, they’d reached a point of no return. When they’d parted ways, he’d offered her a little smile she didn’t soon forget—and it wasn’t long before she found herself craving him… again and again and again…

Rolling onto her stomach, she leans in and presses a kiss to his chest as his arms folds around her. She’s not sure when it happened, but at some point, being with him stopped being selfish and reckless and it turned into something very different. It was a secret—and when she didn’t think why it had to be one—it fun and it was freeing.

Mal had come to visit a couple of weeks before, and as she promised she’d only stayed a couple of days. They’d taken Henry to the river, and she’d smiled as she watched Mal help her son choose pebbles from the riverbank, and her heart had warmed as Mal pulled him into her lap and told him about the magical properties of rocks, smoothed by sea water. Henry listened and nodded, and asked a hundred questions—and that’s when the guilt had settled in. On the way back up to the castle, Mal asked about it and she confessed—and there was a small part of her that wanted her to be jealous, but she wasn’t. Instead she’d squeezed her hand and smiled warmly, offering a low but sincere good for you before Henry interrupted with another question and the subject was all but forgotten.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks, resting her chin on his chest. “I’ve been wondering about this for awhile…”

He grins. “Is this when we’re finally going to tell each other our names?”

“No,” she mumbles, her eyes rolling as she looks away—she likes that she can hide behind the anomininity of this. It seems silly in a lot of ways—to keep such a thinly veiled secret—and in her heart, she knows that he knows who she is. Yet, somehow, not acknowledging that he knows her identity and not allowing him into the intimate details of her life, has allowed her to be more herself than she is with almost anyone else.

He sighs, smiling as he runs his fingers through her hair. “Alright, what then?”

“The afternoon when we first met, why were you trying to rob me?” She asks. “It just… doesn’t seem like you.”

His eyes narrow and though his smile doesn’t fade, something about it changes. “Doesn’t it? Because I’d venture to say that you don’t know me very well.”

Looking away, she bites down on her lip—he’s not wrong. In the weeks they’ve known each other, they haven’t done much talking. “Never mi—”

“I have a son.”

Blinking up at him, she brightens. “You do?”

“He’s only six and he’s sick,” he tells her as her heart beat slows, and she thinks of Henry. “I’ve already lost his mother. I can’t lose him too.”

“I… I’m sorry,” she murmurs quietly as her eyes press closed. “I shouldn’t have…”

“I don’t mind telling you,” he says easily, smiling gently as her eyes flutter open. “He’s… not always sick,” he admits. “It’s just sometimes he gets… breathless and he starts to cough. His face turns red and he heaves for air, and whenever it happens, I’m just left to worry if… if that’ll be the time when his lungs give out on him.”

“That’s… so hard,” she replies. “Watching your child suffer and not being able to do anything about it.”

He nods. “You have a child.”

It’s a statement, not a question—and she hesitates a moment before nodding. “A son, too.” Her shoulders tense a bit and she tries to shift the conversation back to him. “I just don’t understand why—”

“I needed the money for him,” he cuts in. “Or things that are valuable, that I can sell for money”

“That’s not what I was…” Her voice trails off—it doesn’t matter what she was going to say. “What do you need the money for?”

She feels him draw in a breath–and without thinking about it, she rubs her fingers gently against his chest. “There’s a man who, um… who’s a healer, but his services come at a hefty price.” Releasing the breath, he offers a tense smile. “I thought that—”

“I want to help.”

“I couldn’t take—”

“I know someone who can help.” A little grin tugs onto her lips as she thinks of Mal. “She… calls herself a witch, but she’s really an apothecary.” He blinks, pulling himself up a little—and something flickers behind his eyes. “She saved my son’s life once. She can save your son, too.”

“You seem… very sure of that.”

She nods and a little smile pulls onto her lips—and reaching out, she skims the back her hand over his cheek in a way that she hopes is comforting. “I am,” she tells him, her voice full of confidence. “I don’t believe in much, but I believe in her.”

She grins at a memory that’s now more sweet than bitter, remembering how she’d sent for Mal on that wintery night when Henry had fallen into the icy lake. Everyone else—the men the Council recommended and hailed—all said there was nothing they could do, that only time would tell. She’d summoned Mal after hearing one about her from one of the maids and by the following evening, Henry was coming around. Robin listens carefully as she explains how to Mal—and though she can’t quite place it, she can’t help but notice as that little flicker returns to his eyes. She shrugs it off as they fall into a tentative, but easy conversation about their sons—and somewhere in the middle of it, as his fingers strum back and forth along her bare back, she finds herself feeling so comfortable and at ease. He’s sweet, she realizes—and he listens to her. He doesn’t talk over her or down to her or assume she doesn’t understand. Sure, their sons are a relatively safe topic, but there was something about the way his blue eyes shimmered when he laughed, something about the softness of his smile and the tender way he touched her that made her heart flutter—and by the time he was helping her button up the back of her dress, she’d all but admitted to herself that she was smitten with him.

Turning back, she watches as he lays back against the bed of straw, lazily plucking his shirt from the ground—and when he catches her watching him, he smiles and offers her a little wave.

“It’s Robin, by the way,” he calls to her, as he pulls on his shirt. “Robin of Locksley.”

“Regina,” she murmurs a bit reluctantly—and when he smiles back at her, it’s a knowing smile.

“Well, Regina,” he says, as he rises up from the bed of straw. “I’m expecting to be near the river tomorr—”

“I can’t tomorrow.”

“The day after?”

She nods, giggles softly to herself as she watches him come to her—his shirt open and his pants undone—and when he reaches her, his arm hooks around her waist and he draws her in, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her one last time.

“I’ll see you then,” he tells her offering a quick wink before letting her go—and all she can do is nod, as a deep and overwhelming sense of sadness washes over her at the realization that they can never be more than they are.

_____

It’s been months since that first encounter with Robin—and it’d been months since she’d reconciled her feelings for him and accepted that whatever was between them could never be anymore than it was. Neither of them was truly available—she had her obligations and a son to raise and though his wife had died years before, his heart still belonged to her. They often joked that in another life or at another time, they could have been more than they were, but fate hadn’t been so thoughtful and they were left to make the best of what they had.

She appreciated and respected his honesty. And though it stung a little at first, she was glad that he never asked for more than she could give or gave her the notion he could give her more than he was able.They each fully and freely admitted that what they were doing wasn’t about the physical—there were feelings between them that were real and true—and it was as much about comfort and support and escape as it was about the sex.

First and foremost, they were both parents, and though he never asked about the details of her life, he knew them and he knew that her entire existence was centered around her son—just his whole life was centered around his boy. Their needs and desires were secondary, and so they had to settle for stolen moments here and there, and secretive, planned meetups in a little barn nestled in an overgrown part of the woods behind the ruins of what had once been someone’s home. They met there once a week. She didn’t know what excuse he gave, but everyone assumed she was out riding, clearing her head and getting away from the burden that came with her position—and really, that wasn’t a lie.

When she was with him, it was easy to forget—he was an escape from reality–and she was always glad to spend an afternoon in his company. There’d been one particularly cool day in the middle of autumn when he’d surprised her, arriving early and setting up the barn with extra blankets and candles, building up the fire before she got there. He’d set up a little picnic for them and when she’d come in, the smell of roasting apples consumed her. A smile edged onto her lips as she sunk down onto a thick blanket in front of the fire, placing both hands on his cheeks as she greeted him with a kiss that would have absolutely led to more had it not been for the apples roasting at the hearth.

They’d spent the entire afternoon tangled together beneath a fur blanket in front of the fire. They ate the apples and snacked on nuts and berries, drank wine and spent the day pleasuring one another—and when the sky turned dusky, the ache in her chest had nearly been unbearable…

For a while, their arrangement always felt a little sad—she missed having someone with her always, waking up with them and falling asleep beside them, having someone there to share in the struggles and joys of parenthood—but once she came to terms with what they had, she found that sadness didn’t last for very long and it was soon replaced with relief.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want more—it was that she wanted what she couldn’t have—and no matter how caught up she allowed herself to get in the fantasy of what could be with Robin, she could never fully commit because no matter what, a piece of her heart would always be reserved for Daniel—and another piece, that seemed only to expand, was saved for Mal.

Daniel was the easiest part of the equation—she’d loved him and tried to build a life with him, but he was gone now and his spirit and smile lived on in their son. But her feelings for Mal and Robin were more complicated than that. In any moment, she felt a myriad of conflicting things—some of them wonderful, some of them terrifying and some of them were completely wrought with guilt.

One night, not long after she’d started seeing Robin, she’d gone to spend a night with Mal. Mal, of course, knew about Robin, but they didn’t talk about him and sometimes, it was easy to forget that she did know and had even given him a stamp of approval that was unrequired, but nonetheless, helped keep the guilt at bay.

She’d been laying on her side facing Mal, lazily trading kisses as Mal’s fingers strummed over her bare hip when Mal pulled back, smiling warmly as their eyes met—and for the first time since she told her about Robin, Mal asked about him. They’d only been seeing each other for a handful of weeks, and so they’d only been together a few times, but already she could feel herself falling for him—and her cheeks flushed immediately as his name fell from Mal’s lips.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Mal assured her that she wasn’t upset—she was glad she had someone else, someone who could be there when she couldn’t be, someone who gave her some excitement and something to look forward to—and then, her face turned serious, as she reminded her that no one could ever know about her secret affairs. Regina nodded, reminding her that no one knew that better than she did—and then Mal pressed a quick kiss to her lips and rolled away from her. She gathered a blanket around herself as she padded across the dimly lit room, stooping in front of a cupboard and drawing out a little basket. Regina sat up, watching her curiously.

She returned to the bed with the basket and Regina watched as her finger touched the largest jar sitting inside of it. Wild carrot and dried lemon and ginger, she’d told her, a tea she should drink daily to help to avoid any unwanted consequences that could complicate her situation, and should that fail, there was a smaller jar of Angelica root and a mix of black and blue cohosh. She didn’t know what either of those things were, but when Mal’s finger touched the jar as her eyes met Regina’s they were sober, and she explained in a serious voice that it had to be used carefully, and if she found herself in need of its use, to start to boil it, then send for her immediately. Regina’s lips pursed as the realization of what Mal was implying set in—and then, before she could dwell on it, Mal lifted the last and smallest of the jars, pulling off the top to reveal a little sponge as the sweet and fresh smell of lemon filled her senses. A little grin pulled onto Mal’s lips as she explained how to use the sponge and how it’d work—and when she asked her why she was giving her these things, she shrugged her shoulders and told her she wanted her to be safe and that she loved her.

They’d always been reluctant to voice their feelings, but everytime they did, her chest swelled and her body warmed, and she couldn’t help but smile—but, of course, that was just another instance of wanting what she couldn’t have, and another instance of having to make the most out of what she could have…

And what she had was better than nothing at all.

Understanding that had been a comfort—and it helped keep her guilt at bay, until one day, it’d faded away completely. It seemed silly now to feel guilty and quickly she’d learned to enjoy it for what it was—and she was happier for it.

That night she’d been finishing up a private meal with Henry—a common occurrence, but one she wished they were afforded more often. She’d been scooping a full spoonful of a bread pudding onto his plate—a favorite dessert with too much cinnamon and sugar—and she grinned as he noticed the extra raisins in his serving. As soon as the pudding reached his plate, Henry’s fork was dipping into it, choosing a particularly plump raisin for the first bite.

He had a birthday coming up at the end of summer and it was hard to believe that her baby boy would soon be eleven—and that in four short years, he’d assume the throne. It should have been longer—initially, the plan was for her to rule until he turned eighteen, but she and David had been outvoted and in only minutes, three years were chipped off of her son’s childhood.

Earlier that day, she’d met with the Council, and the suggestion was made to move up Henry’s planned coronation for his twelfth birthday instead of his fifteenth—and when she’d fought against it, they’d had the audacity to suggest her only reason for objecting was to keep power for herself. It’d been insulting—and by the end of it, she found herself making an impassioned speech about the sacrifices that came with ruling, and how she couldn’t, in good conscious, cut her son’s childhood short and place such a burden upon him. The Council tentatively agreed to table the discussion for another time and she’d stormed out with hot tears burning in her eyes, and the knowledge that her victory would be short-lived.

A smile pulled onto her lips as Henry looked to her with wide eyes as he confessed to her that he wanted a dragon for his birthday present—and though she knew it was an impossible request, she found her mind reeling for ways she could make it happen for him. And then, David had come in with the news that the Council wanted to vote—after only a few hours of thought, a group of aged men wanted to strip her child of the few years of innocence he had remaining, signing him up for a lifetime of burden and sacrifice and loneliness.

She’d stormed into the chamber, rage boiling inside of her as she attempted to appeal to them on her son’s behalf, telling them stories about a little boy who liked to swim in the river and thought dragons were real. She tried to tell them how he’d be exploited by the neighboring monarchs looking to expand their borders, and she argued that he wasn’t old enough to understand the importance of the decisions he made, that he didn’t have the life experience to choose wisely or make choices that weren’t easy, and she stressed that he shouldn’t have to because he was a child—and then, she played the card she always had tucked into her sleeve, and she softened as she told them that this wasn’t what Daniel would have wanted for their young son.

The vote was close, but in the end she’d won—and despite the victory she’d made for Henry, she couldn’t help but feel defeated.

She’d went to him after the vote to find him tucked into his bed, sleeping soundly with a smile stretched across his lips. David had joined her for awhile, reminding her that the decision was final—but deep down she knew that nothing was ever final and she couldn’t help but worry. He left her there, in the darkened room with Henry, as the emotional toll began to set in—and when she returned to her own bedchambers, the loneliness of her life was overwhelming.

It hadn’t taken long to the make the decision to go to Mal, and when she arrived, she’d been glad to find the windows aglow—it never occurred to her that Mal might be with someone else.

And then she heard his voice.

She stopped at the threshold, her eyes wide and her body frozen. The air left her lungs and all she could do was stand there and watch—watch Robin and Mal together. She watched as Robin rolled Mal onto her back and she watched her legs curl around his hips. She could see him slipping in and out of her and she could hear the soft little moans escaping her—and once the shock wore off, she found herself consumed with something she couldn’t quite peg. She wasn’t jealous—she’d never asked Robin about other lovers, but she certainly knew of Mal’s; but, she’d never actually seen her with someone else and she certainly never anticipated that her lovers might be lovers themselves—but it was something and it was uncomfortable.

She took a stepback—and the floorboard that separated Mal’s private quarters from her shop creaked. Her eyes widened as Mal sat up, pushing Robin back slightly as her eyes met Regina’s and her lips parted. She let out an audible sigh, looking briefly to Robin before he, too, turned to face her. Her cheeks flushed and she could barely hear the apology that stammered from her—and then, before she could do or say any more, Mal was reaching for the robe on her nightpost. She watches as Mal knots the silky garment around herself and pads toward her, taking her hands as she smiles warmly.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m interrupting,” she manages, watching as Robin wraps a blanket around his waist. “I didn’t think—”

“You’re not interrupting.” Her brows arch as she looks incredulously to Mal—a minute ago, she was having sex with another person, no matter if her presence was a welcomed surprise, she is interrupting. “You’re upset.”

“I… not because…” Regina’s cheeks warm and her eyes press closed. Her head is spinning and it’s hard to get control of her thoughts, much less her emotions. “I didn’t know that you two… um… knew each other,” she says, looking between them as Robin comes to stand at her other side. “I’m just… I shouldn’t be here.”

“We’re old friends,” Robin explains, his voice easy and calm. “You put us back into contact.”

“Oh, how… nice.”

“It has been,” Mal tells her with a nod as her hand strokes over her arm. “Let us explain.”

“We never meant to keep this from you.”

Regina blinks as she looks to Robin—they don’t owe her an explanation. “You both had plenty of opportunities to tell me.”

Robin nods. “That’s true, but it also took you a month just to tell me your name.” He shrugs and offers her a lopsided grin. “I didn’t think that you wanted me to know more about you.”

“But you do.”

He nods as Mal’s hand continues to rub over her arm. “And me knowing her would… have revealed that.” He shrugs. “If keeping your secrets was that important to you, I wanted you to be able to do that.”

“Even if… it was just…” He nods as her voice trails off—and her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Still, I should—”

“Don’t you dare say you should go,” Mal cuts in. “I’d never forgive myself if I turned you away upset.”

“I’m not—” she stops. “Not because of… this.”

“Good,” she says, pressing her hand to her arm. “Let’s get this cloak off of you and get you warmed up by the fire.”

Regina bites down on her lip as Mal pulls at the ribbon at the front of her cloak—and before she can protest and insist on leaving and letting them continue, Mal leans in and kisses her. Her breath catches in her chest and though her first thought is to pull away, she finds herself melting into a kiss that’s warm and inviting and such a comfort.

“Let us make you feel better,” Mal breathes out as pulls back and rests her forehead against Regina’s. “Let us—”

“What?” Her eyes widen as she pulls back and Robin’s hand slides over her hip. “Us, as in… both you and… me… together?”

“Why not?”

“Because I…” Her voice halts as Robin’s hand rubs at the small of her back and when she looks to him, he offers her a soft and encouraging smile—and then, he leans in and kisses her. Her first reaction is to tense up and pull back, but then Mal’s lips meet the crook of her neck and her cloak is pulled away from her, the cool early summer air sweeping up around her. She’s not sure which of them removes it and she’s not sure that she cares—and when Robin pulls back, he smiles sweetly. She looks to Mal who smiles, too, and suddenly, she can’t think of a single reason not to stay with them, and she finds herself nodding as they pull her over to the still-warm bed.

They help her out of her dress and she swallows hard as she edges herself back onto the bed, her stomach fluttering as she watches Robin remove the blanket from his waist and as Mal unties her robe. They each get into bed with her, both smiling as they reach for her and she lets out a shaky breath as their lips meet her skin and their hands start to roam—and as Mal’s fingers slip between her legs and Robin’s lips meet hers, she can hardly believe the thing she’s barely allowed herself to acknowledge is actually happening, and for the first time in months, she feels absolved from her guilt.

_____

Henry’s birthday was the high point for everyone in the kingdom’s calendar. Traditionally, the birthday of any reigning monarch would have been a day of celebrations in homes and taverns across the kingdom, but she’d never considered herself a monarch; she was simply a placeholder for her son—besides, Henry’s birthday was only two days before Daniel’s and he was born in the same month as Daniel’s father, and keeping the celebration at the end of summer was a mark of consistency.

Since Daniel’s death, there hadn’t been any major celebrations at the castle—at first it’d been a symbol of mourning—first for the long-reigning king and then for Daniel—and then a practical decision to save money wherever they could. Her father-in-law regularly opened up the palace and threw extravagant balls with lavish decorations and too much food and drink—and everyone loved him for it. And when she’d stopped the tradition, no one saw it as a being financially responsible; instead, they decided there must be something the new queen was hiding and from there the stories about her were spun…

It’d been Mal’s idea to reopen the castle for Henry’s birthday—and reluctantly, Regina agreed. As always, Mal made a good case. Not only would it be fun for Henry, it would show the stability of the monarchy—it would show that the kingdom returned to a prosperous place and that she’d left something viable for her son.

She’d been reluctant at first, but as the preparations began she started to enjoy it—and when she commissioned a larger-than-life paper mache dragon to be hung from the rafters of the ballroom, she could barely contain her excitement over the prospect of revealing it to Henry. She’d sent out invitations to all the children in the kingdom and she planned an entire day’s worth of games for them to enjoy. The ballroom doors would be opened up to the garden and fountains would be on. There’d be music and dancing, and once the children’s party was over, a traditional ball would begin.

She’d personally delivered an invitation to one Roland of Locksley, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as she told him that she hoped he’d be there—and as she stood up, she’d offered Robin a little wink and suggested he pack an overnight bag. His brows had arched and she’d offered only a smile and a little wave as she left him—her own heart pounding in her chest.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Mal murmurs as she comes to stand beside her, extending a glass chalice filled with wine. “Henry really had a great time today.”

“He did,” Regina nods, smiling as she takes the wine and her eyes shift up to the rafters. “He wants to keep the dragon up all of the time.”

“Will you let him?”

“Probably.”

Mal laughs as she sips her own glass of wine. “It does add a nice little… flare to the room.”

Regina’s eyes roll as she looks away from the bright orange and yellow dragon—and her eyes catch Robin coming down the stairs. She smiles warmly as joins them.“That was quick,” she says, offering him a sip of her wine. “I thought you’d be gone awhile longer, this being an unfamiliar place, and all.”

“As it turns out, Roland is quite fond of down mattresses,” he says, pausing to take a drink. “He was out as soon as I put him him down.”

“Well, he had a busy day.”

“So, you think he’ll be okay all by himself?”

Robin grins as he looks between them. “I think he’ll be thrilled to have that whole bed to himself.” And then a little laugh escapes him, “In fact, I’m not sure how he managed to sprawl out in a way that took up the entire bed, but I’m pretty sure he was trying to tell me something.”

Mal laughs and her hand presses to Robin’s chest as Regina takes back the glass of wine and takes a long sip, her stomach fluttering as she looks around the ballroom—and catches David’s concerned glare.

“I don’t know about the two of you,” she begins, looking away from David and back to them. “I think I’m ready to be done with this party.”

“I… think this party is just getting started,” Robin tells her, his hand sliding over her hip.

Regina nods. “But this party doesn’t need a hostess to continue.” Taking a long sip of the wine, her eyes slide momentarily back to David, then back to them. “Why don’t the two of you go upstairs, and I’ll say my goodbyes and meet you up there.”

“Are you… sure?” Robin asks, looking around. “I mean…”

She nods as she looks to Mal. “You know the way, right?”

Mal nods and downs her wine, and Robin chuckles softly before letting her guide him up the stairs and across the balcony. Regina watches as David watches them go—going in a direction that only leads to the royal family’s private quarters, in the opposite direction of where guests usually stay. Taking a breath, she crosses the crowded ballroom to him—and a smile pulls onto her lips as his eyes widen and he looks back to her.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Regina, you—”

She shakes her head as his voice comes to a halt. “For ten years, I’ve put my entire life on hold for this kingdom. I’ve made sacrifices and I isolated myself and I did what I thought I was supposed to do, even if it made me lonely and miserable. I know that I can never marry again, but it took me a long time to realize that I can be happy again.”

David’s jaw tightens. “I know what you and that apocepthary have been—”

“She’s not an apothecary,” Regina cuts in, as a grin pulls onto her lips. “She’s a witch.”

He sighs, rubbing his fingers against his brow. “Regina, I’ve kept your secret, but—”

“They make me happy, David,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “So, you’re going to keep on keeping my secrets.”

“But—”

“I won’t be queen forever and for a long time, I didn’t know what that would mean for the rest of my life.” She shrugs and her eyes shift up to the now-vacant balcony. “Henry’s eleven and in a few years, he’s going to be crowned king. I still think fifteen is too young, but there isn’t anything I can do about that.” She looks back at him and shakes her head. “I know that I’ve raised a good boy who is going to grow up to be a good man and a good king—and you deserve some of the credit, too. You’ve been there for his whole life—and you’ve made sacrifices, too.”

David’s brow furrows. “I feel like you’re implying something.”

“I am,” she says, laughing softly. “One thing we still have to teach Henry is that he doesn’t have to do this alone.” Leaning up onto the tips of her toes, she presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “So, I’m going to go upstairs and enjoy my company, and you are going to go ask Princess Mary Margaret to dance.” David’s brows arch and she laughs. “Stop worrying about my love life and worry about your own. While you were keeping tabs on me and trying to figure out what was going on between me and Robin and Mal, you completely missed the fact that a pretty girl spent the whole evening trying to get your attention.”

Blinking, he looks past her. “The one in the white dress?”

“Leopold’s daughter,” she tells him with a nod. “And given the history between Leopold and myself, she really went out of her way to see you tonight.” Laughing, she pushes at his arm. “Go make it worth her while.”

She bids him a goodnight and starts for the stairs, and as she crosses the balcony she can’t help but smile as she watches David cross the room in search of Mary Margaret—and then she puts both out of sight and out of mind.

Robin and Mal are there when she arrives, waiting for her.

Her stomach flutters as she undresses—and it seems silly that she’s nervous. They’ve all been together countless times and they were quite comfortable with each other, but they’ve never been together here, at the castle, in her bedroom.

But she wanted them to be a part of her life—a real part of her life.

Her nerves quickly faded, though, and she didn’t give herself the opportunity to overthink it—not that she could with Mal and Robin kissing her and touching her the way that they were…

She smiles as she pushes up Mal’s knees, grinning up at her as she lays back against the pillows—and she grins back over her shoulder, biting down on her lip, as Robin shifts himself behind her, rubbing his hands over her ass. Leaning in, she swipes her tongue over Mal, swirling it around her clit. Mal’s hand pushes into her hair and her hips start to move back and forth as she sucks and licks—and then her breath catches in her chest as Robin slips into her from behind.

It takes a few minutes for them to find a rhythm that works for all of them, but once they do, it’s hard for her to remember why she’d been worried about this at all—and it’s hard to remember why she’d kept them at arm’s length for so long.

Though she wasn’t completely ready to fully let them in—that would take time and adjusting—she was glad that she had them there with her. And as they cleaned themselves up and got into bed, and sleep slowly took over, she couldn’t help but be soothed by the soft music of the party still going on in the ballroom and the warm summer breeze that swept in through the open window, and the warmth and comfort of having her lovers at her side.


End file.
